


Dragon

by buckysknifecollection



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff without Plot, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mention of blood, Reader-Insert, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, i mean there is some plot but mostly just fluff, mention of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:14:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21513607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckysknifecollection/pseuds/buckysknifecollection
Summary: An enhanced individual with the power to create fire shows up on Sam’s doorstep and announces she wants to join the team.
Relationships: Sam Wilson (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> {{This work was reposted from my Tumblr blog @ buckysknifecollection.tumblr.com}}
> 
> Written for a friend's writing challenge. The prompt I chose was the lyrics:  
> “Your eyes shine like swimming pools and I am just a stupid fool who can’t stop smiling. “
> 
> In this fic I mention that reader’s English is quite weak at the beginning. Consider this a small nod to all of us readers and writers for whom English isn’t our first language.
> 
> EDIT 13.07.2020: There was a part towards the end of the oneshot that played way too much into the "caretaker Sam" stereotype, which I didn't like, so I tweaked it a little bit so it's not so glaring. I want Sam to be caring in this oneshot, but I don't wanna add to that stereotype.

You had first shown up on a windy winter night, banging on Sam’s and Bucky's shared apartment door like the world was ending, waking them both up from much needed sleep. You then announced in very weak English and a heavy accent that you would be joining their new Avengers team. 

Sam didn't even know they had a new Avengers team or that they were accepting new members. As far as he was aware it was just him, Bucky and Sharon on board and everyone else was doing whatever it was they were doing. When Sam looked to Bucky for assistance, the man simply shrugged and went back to his room to sleep, leaving Sam to deal with you. 

When he looked back at you, standing in the door, giving him some proper puppy eyes which would put even Barnes to shame, an old duffle bag on the floor behind you, he just sighed, ran a hand down his face and stepped aside for you to come in. 

He waved a hand towards the sofa. "Have a seat. I need to make a call."

Sharon would claw his eyes out for calling her so late, but a stranger showing up and declaring herself an Avenger was probably something she should know about. Sam watched you as you sat on the couch, curious eyes scanning the room while he spoke on the phone. Sharon would show up in the morning and have a talk with you, but in the meantime Sam was to make sure you're not trouble. 

He went in his bedroom, grabbed a pillow off his bed and a spare duvet out of the closet and brought them to you. 

"You can stay the night, since the weather is shit, but I have questions." He said.

"Okay."

He sat in the coffee table - a direct house rule infringement - and watched as you fluffed the pillow and put it where you wanted it, then spread the duvet on the sofa. When you were done, you turned your full attention to him.

"So what's your deal?" 

"My deal?" You cocked your head to the side in confusion, an image of a tiny puppy flashing through Sam's head. 

"You said you wanted to be an Avenger. Were you a Shield recruit or something? Or are you enhanced?" 

You nodded excitedly at the last word. "I make fire."

"What do you mean you make fire?" Now Sam was confused. He _really_ hoped you didn't mean what he thought you did. 

You lifted your palm then, away from your body and Sam. Your eyes gleamed red and your palm did the same after a second. A small flame appeared in the middle of your palm, slowly spreading over the skin, the orange and yellow licking at your fingers. Sam could feel the warmth of it from where he was staring in disbelief. 

You meant _exactly_ what he thought you did. 

"Okay." Sam stood up suddenly, startling you into making the fire disappear. You watched him with wide eyes as he stormed towards a door. He opened it, and switched the light on, a grumble sounding from the inside.

"Barnes, she has fire coming out of her hands." 

"What am I supposed to do about it?! Throw a cup of water at her and let me sleep." A bang sounded and the light went off again. 

Sam came back to you, your eyes still wide in surprise. He put his hands on his hips and let out another frustrated sigh. He was so not prepared for this. There was no way of telling how much control you had over your powers, and he didn’t even know you. He had no way of ensuring you were not a danger to them or yourself. What if you lost control and set the whole place on fir- 

"Are you angry?" You asked in a small voice. You noticed the uncertainty and fear in his demeanor and were now scared yourself. 

It broke his heart. Damn him and his soft heart.

"No, I'm not. I'm sorry. Just tired." He sat back down in front of you. "How about this. You stay the night here, don't set fire to any of our stuff and tomorrow we'll see about you joining the team, okay?" He spoke a bit slower than he normally would, hoping that would help you understand him. 

It seemed like you understood just fine, because by the time he finished talking, you were beaming at him. Sam gave you a smile as well - he had to admit you were adorable. When you didn't want anything to eat, he showed you to the bathroom, let you clean up and then lay down. He was pleased when he woke up and nothing was reduced to ashes.

But that was only the beginning of the adventure that was having you around.

_ _ _ _

Sam assumed Sharon would take you to some superhero training facility or something, but that didn't really seem to be a thing. She had then offered to take you to a temporary dorm but you refused. You wanted to stay with the team and whenever Sharon tried to convince you, you'd just cling to Sam's side.

“Baby girl, are you sure you don’t want your own place? That couch isn’t that comfortable, no matter what Barnes says.” Sam attempted to reason with you was only answered with Bucky scoffing and you mumbling something in your language.

It wasn’t that he wanted to get rid of you, not at all, it just seemed more logical to him for you to have your own place, especially that the alternative Sharon had presented you was in the building across the road. Plus he knew him and Barnes sometimes managed to make the apartment look like a pigpen and he didn’t really want you to witness that.

But you just shook your head and held on to his hoodie tighter, partially using him as a shield in case Sharon tried to grab you. Sam knew Sharon would never force you to do anything, but his mind was spinning because you’ve only met him less than eight hours earlier and you already seemed to trust him completely. And it was kinda cute how you were hiding behind him. 

“I want to stay with the team. Like Avengers.”

Sam really didn’t know what to say to that. He understood what you were referring to - the Tower, the Compound. You must have been a teenager when Stark became Iron Man, you practically grew up watching the Avengers Initiative being created. And that seemed to be what you wanted - a team, a family.

“I think she should stay.” Bucky spoke around a mouthful of cereal. He was perched at the dining table, three different boxes of cereal and a big jug of milk in front of him. 

“You haven’t even spoken to her since she got here last night.” Sam agreed, but struggled to see on what grounds Bucky decided you should stay, and he was a bit curious too. Bucky had an interesting way of reading people, as Sam had witnessed in the past year.

Bucky called your name and you immediately turned to him, eyes wide and excited. “Come over here.”

You looked to Sam, but he only shrugged. He had no clue what Barnes was up to this time. You walked over to where Bucky was sitting, hands timidly behind your back, but Sam could tell you were excited he finally spoke to you. You had told Sam you had learned about Bucky in school and admired him big time. 

“Pick one.” Bucky nodded at the three cereal boxes in front of him. 

Again, you cocked your head in that cute way that had Sam fighting a smile. Sharon’s brows shoot up to high on her forehead, they almost touched her hairline. They watched Bucky encourage you to pick a box, he poked your arm gently, and Sam was glad to see you didn’t react to Bucky’s metal arm in any way - a good sign.

Then you picked the cinnamon monstrosity Bucky loved, which made the man beam at you and lift him metal palm up for a high five. 

“She can stay.” Bucky announced and Sam felt like he has never been this entertained in his entire life. 

“Did he seriously just do a cereal test on her?” Sharon muttered in disbelief.

“I guess we have a new teammate.” Sam chuckled when you ran back to him, happy that you passed Bucky’s test.

“I’m gonna kill Rogers for leaving me with the two of you.” Sharon shook her head as she left, leaving the two men and their new flatmate to their own devices.

Bucky cleared his throat, smirking. “So…. _Baby girl_ , huh?”

“Shut up.”

_ _ _ _

You ended up living on their couch for almost two months until they managed to find a new apartment that met their needs and was big enough for the three of you. 

Bucky had quickly gotten into the habit of calling you a dragon, no matter how many times you argued you didn't spit fireballs out of your mouth. He had also become your teacher, as he just so happened to be familiar with your language. Even though Bucky wasn’t very interested in making new friends - mostly because most people judged him based on his past and he didn’t deem it worth the hassle of proving them wrong, him and you became best friends from pretty much day one. Sam blamed the cinnamon cereal you both liked.

You complained and whined and even stomped your foot a few times because studying English frustrated you so much. But Bucky was extremely patient with you and once he discovered your favourite candy, he had you in the palm of his hand.

While Bucky was your language teacher, Sam offered to train you. Even though you were enhanced, you didn’t have any ridiculous strength or speed, so training with Sam simply made more sense, since he wasn’t enhanced either. You had admitted you were never a fan of sports, but the sad truth was you needed to be fit enough to at least run away from the bad guys if anything happened. 

And then, whatever Bucky taught you, you'd repeat everything to Sam when he would train with you. You claimed it helped you remember better, but you often used it as an excuse to stall an exercise you didn’t like.

“Bucky said I should pronounce it differently but that doesn’t make sense.” You grumbled as you punched at the sand-filled bag. 

Pronunciation really made you angry sometimes, Sam noticed. He stood off to the side, arms crossed over his chest, an easy smile on his lips as he watched you punch the bag almost in a perfect stance. He wouldn’t risk correcting you now that you were riled up after your English lesson earlier in the day.

“Why pronounce it differently? Because of one extra letter?” You huffed, shifting on your feet.

“What did Bucky say?” 

“He started reading some rule from the book but I didn’t listen.”

“You’re never gonna learn if you keep it up like that.” Sam chuckled and came close. Your incorrect stance would end up with you hurting yourself, so he decided correcting you was worth a tiny burn or two.

“But you understand.” You grinned at him over your shoulder as he adjusted your stance. 

“Sure I do, baby.” He gave you that toothy smile you liked and nodded at the bag, indicating you should continue.

You didn't rant for the rest of the session, the simple pet name Sam would call from literally day one subdued your frustration completely. 

_ _ _ _

You had once explained to Sam how you’d started getting your powers when you were only a child. At first it had been tiny, barely visible sparks that felt like static at your fingers, which slowly grew to tiny flickers and then larger flames. You had told him you weren’t even scared, you thought you were going to be sent off to Hogwarts or something. But your power grew and it was hard for you to control. 

It was a bit easier for you now, but you still needed practice, especially if you ever were to use your powers in a fight. At first, Bucky had the genius (in his opinion) idea for you try practicing in a controlled environment - the bathtub. That dumb idea ended up with you befriending the entire fire brigade that came to save them from getting barbequed. Sam may have been just a little bit jealous of all the hunky firemen flocking to you and he did not like that tall redhead who batted her long lashes at you and invited you for a tour of the fire station.

Before the team left their apartment Sam had asked if they knew of any abandoned buildings in the area that you could use as a playground without endangering yourself or anyone else and to his luck, there was one. He’d take you there almost every day and help you figure out your powers. Now, Sam was not enhanced and he had no clue how to even go about all of it, but you could bet he would be by your side cheering you on and giving you ideas.

“Okay, now try to slowly spread it.” Sam murmured from behind you.

You had set fire to a newspaper and held the flame in one corner for a few minutes. You reached out to just barely touch the smoking paper with your fingertips and willed the flames to slowly spread out towards the middle.

“Do you think you can control it’s path?” 

You hummed, deep in thought as you held most of the fire on one half of the newspaper and willed just a thin line to run around a picture printed on the other half. When you completed the square, you gasped in surprise - you didn’t know you could make fire do that!

“That’s my girl! Well done.” _His_ girl? Yeah, you like the sound of that. 

“Alright, how about you put that out and we go for lunch?”

The flames died in a matter of seconds, leaving behind a pile of half-burned paper, a pile of ashes and a big grin on your face.

“That was fun.” You stood off the ground and patted the dust off your trousers. 

Sam had been sitting in a chair just a couple of feet away, elbows on his knees and eyes fixed on what you were doing. When you approached him, he stood immediately, pulling you into a hug. You sighed, breathed in the smell of his cologne that you grew to adore. You nuzzled your face against his shoulder, shameless in your affection for him and had to stop yourself from literally purring when he scratched at your scalp lightly. You _loved_ it when he did that.

_ _ _ _

You had your own set of emotional baggage, something Sam figured every single person in their field must be plagued with. You'd get nightmares and sleepless nights, sometimes you'd lose control of your powers. Whenever any of that happened, you'd seek out Sam.

At first he thought it was because Bucky had told you about Sam's days with the VA and you wanted guidance. But you didn't want any inspirational speeches or even advice, you simply seeked out comfort. Sam would sometimes be woken up by your warm fingers poking his arm, which he would lift only high enough for you to slide in bed next to him and curl up against his chest.

The first time it happened was about two weeks after the three of you moved to the new, bigger apartment. It was almost on the outskirts of New York, in a quiet area, which Sam thought would be perfect. You, however, seemed unsettled by the lack of a noisy street outside the window. Sam guessed it was because you were so used to living in a city that the silence was simply strange to you. Two weeks after moving and he'd still find you asleep on the living room couch with the tv acting as background noise. 

He'd told you many times that you can wake either of them whenever you struggled, but you never wanted to bother them. Which was why Sam was surprised when a quiet knock came from his bedroom door one night. 

He was sat in bed, reading some random novel he'd borrowed off Bucky. He didn't really care much about the plot, he was simply trying to tire himself to sleep. The first time the knock sounded, he thought it was just one of his flatmates doing something in the kitchen. It was barely 11pm so that wouldn't be uncommon. But at the second knock, he looked up from the book. 

"Yeah?" 

The door opened slowly, the light from the hallway spilling inside. 

"Hey, were you sleeping?" You peeked inside the room. 

"Nah, just reading." Sam noticed your hair was a bit messy and your eyes were rimmed with pink. "You okay?" 

"I- um… I had a nightmare." You stepped inside the room, fingers fiddling with the edge of your pajama shirt. "You said it's okay to come talk." It sounded more like a question, really, Sam wondered if you actually thought he was capable of saying no to you and sending you away. 

He wasn't. He lifted the covers off the bed beside him and nodded at the empty space. "Hop in." 

You smiled shyly, but you were obviously happy he invited you to his bed. Sam could tell when you immediately snuggled up to him, not bothered at all about his shirtless state. If anything, you seemed delighted. 

“Have you set anything on fire yet?” Sam hugged you to him and ruffled your already messy hair.

“No.” You snickered. "What are you reading?" You tugged at the book in Sam's hand.

"Some book Bucky had lying around." He let his fingers draw soothing patterns up and down your back and felt you relax further. 

"Read to me?" You looked up at him grinning. The slight red glint of your iris matched the red rim around your eyes and Sam couldn’t stand the fact that you were crying shortly before coming to him. 

Sam scoffed. "It's boring." He dropped the book on his nightstand and wiggled down the mattress so he was no longer sitting against the headboard, but laying next to you instead. He let you snuggle up to him again so you were comfortable and wrapped his arms around you. 

"I'd rather talk to you." Sam gave you that toothy grin you adored and it immediately made you smile too. 

The smile quickly dropped off your face though and you lay your head on his shoulder and tugged on the chain of his dog tags while you thought. For a few minutes, the soft jingle of the metal plates was the only sound in the room. 

"I had a dream I killed you. You and Bucky and Sharon." You sniffled pitifully. Now Sam understood why you were crying - he's had dreams like that before. Nightmares of killing his closest friends, his family even. He could relate to a degree how you felt. 

"With your powers?" You nodded. "You have a lot more control now, you know. You're doing great." He assured you, his lips moving against your forehead. 

You pulled away and sat up, unable to stay still when upset. The duvet pooled around your hips, you let out a shaky breath and looked back over your shoulder where Sam was laying. 

"Aren't you scared? That I will lose control one day and hurt you?" 

"I was." He murmured. He never wanted to be dishonest with you, and he knew simply telling you the truth was the best option. "When you first showed up at our door, flames up your hand and all… I didn't know you and I did worry I'd wake up extra crispy." You snorted a laugh and turned around, facing away from him.

Sam couldn't see but he imagined you were playing with your shirt again, a nervous tick of yours. Your head was hung low, still heavy with worry and fear. He could see a tiny sliver of skin where your shirt rode up a bit over your back and reached out to gently stroke the soft skin with his fingertips.

He knew you liked physical touch. It calmed you when you were worried and made you smile when you were sad. Sam was surprised to find out you were one cuddle hungry monster and you couldn’t sit through ten minutes of a movie without cuddling up to something or someone. He hoped that this time it did the trick as well.

You didn’t react in any way when his fingertips danced at the edge of the shirt’s thin fabric, so he let his hand splay over your lower back, lending some warmth to calm your nerves. You sighed and finally looked back at him and he noticed fresh tears were rolling down your cheek.

“Come here, baby.” He whispered, the moment too personal, too intimate for any loud noises.

You sniffled in the sad way again, and crawled over to him. You were going to lay down next to him like before, but Sam pulled you up so you were on top of him, you legs splayed on either side of him and your arms around his neck. 

"I know you now." He spoke softly, reassuringly. "And I’m not scared anymore. I trust you.” You hummed against his neck and wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand.

“You didn’t trust me when I wanted to make you popcorn yesterday.” You teased, making Sam chuckle. You were sick of moping around and wanted to lighten the mood. Being around Sam, you didn’t want to feel sad anymore. Plus, he was right, you had a lot more control since you started practicing.

“Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah, baby?”

Your lips were feather light on his, only for a few short seconds. Warm and soft, you kissed him only for a moment and before he could react in any way other than sucking in a surprised breath, you lowered your head again to hide your face against his shoulder. 

“Thank you.” You whispered right before you fell asleep.

_ _ _ _

On your good days, you were like a hurricane in the house. With your blasting music that ranged from opera soundtracks to pop hits from countries you've never even been to, your cooking experiments that always ended with a blast of a fire extinguisher and your completely incorrect use of slang words which Sam was certain you were doing on purpose just to rile up Bucky. 

Despite everything that has happened in the world, despite what was still happening, you were still full of joy and excitement and hope. And maybe that's exactly what he needed. In the rare moments where the weight on his shoulders was just too much, you made him smile and guided him to look at the bright side, just like he did for you and Bucky on any other day.

Almost a year after you had joined the team, Sharon knocked on the door with a thick folder in hand and a frown on her face. Zemo had resurfaced, and even though you have never heard of him, your two flatmates were on edge since the moment Sharon stepped inside.

The day your team came face to face with him was what you considered to be the worst day of your life. At first you were at ease, sure that your powers would be enough to keep him away from the boys and especially Bucky, who seemed to be Zemo’s main target this time. As the creep went on and on about trying to use Bucky’s trigger words again (the idiot thought those still worked), you rolled your eyes and prepared two spheres of fire around your palms, ready to throw them in his face.

You didn’t expect a high frequency transmitter that messed up with your powers in some way you didn’t understand. It gave you a massive headache and for once you were happy that the boys taught you how to shoot because otherwise you would’ve been helpless. You weren’t the best at it, but at least you managed to shoot the goon that was aiming for Sharon.

What came next happened as if someone had pushed the slow motion button.

First Zemo aimed his weapon at Bucky, then Redwing slammed right into his hands, knocking him to the side for a moment. He snarled in fury and aimed again, this time at Sam. Your first instinct was to run to him and push him out of the way, and so was Bucky’s. He ran towards Sam, and before the bullet reached them, Bucky shielded Sam with his body.

Everything went quiet. You’ve never seen this much blood before.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Zemo and his group backing away into their vehicles. You numbly pointed at them, wordlessly asking Sharon how to proceed. Leave them, she ordered and pulled you towards Sam, who was on his knees, Bucky in his lap.

“We need to - stop the bleeding -” Sam choked out as he applied pressure on the wound on Bucky’s side.

You have never been this terrified before. The reality of what you have willingly signed up for slapped you in the face with no remorse. Sharon’s lips were a tight line, her brows furrowed as she did her best to stay concentrated and get you all to safety. Sam was quiet, his eyes fixed on Bucky as you drove home.

Sharon had a trusted doctor meet you at the apartment and have a look at Bucky’s wounds. He was lucky, once again, no major damage was done and he was already healing by the time the doctor left. Sharon had to leave promptly, her job demanding her presence at the headquarters. 

Before Bucky fell asleep, you managed to get him to eat a bit and you even scolded him for worrying about your headache more than for himself. But that was just Bucky.

Afterwards, you ventured out to find Sam, who spent the entire procedure kneeling next to Bucky, clutching his arm, whether to keep Bucky calm or himself grounded, you weren't sure, but you suspected it was both. 

After the doctor instructed you how to take care of Bucky's injuries, and everyone who didn't live with you had left the apartment, Sam had disappeared. 

You quickly found him in the bathroom, but the sight of him was almost as heartbreaking as seeing Bucky get shot. 

He had removed his upper armor and wings, it was all discarded by the sofa in a pile of kevlar, leather and metal. He still had his suit pants on and his belt, his guns still in the holsters. He stood stiffly at the counter, staring down at his hands with a eyes blank of all emotion as the water continued running from the tap, tinted pink with blood inside the sink. 

You could imagine what was going through his mind at that moment, but you knew you couldn't leave him in such state. Without a word, you grabbed a towel and stood next to him, switched the water off and gently wiped his hands dry. There was still a bit of blood on them and it made your stomach twist uncomfortably. 

Sam didn't speak, he just watched you. You couldn't imagine the stress he must have been in having best friend bleeding out in his arms. Sure, you knew Bucky heals easily and is incredibly hard to kill but that didn't make it any less terrifying. Sam had told you about Riley as well, and all the times he had to patch up Captain Rogers after he did something reckless. But this was even worse in a way, because Bucky got hurt while protecting Sam, and the guilt was obvious in his now teary eyes. 

"He ate some soup and is sleeping now." You said as you threw the towel in the hamper. Sam was still watching you when you turned back to him, but he wouldn't meet your eyes. "Bucky will be okay, Sam."

"I know." If you weren't standing right next to him, you probably wouldn't have caught his words. He sounded devastated. 

You sighed, it pained you to see the man that took you in, cared for you and did everything to keep you and your team safe, now so sad. You pulled him by the elbow just enough so you could slip between him and the counter and wrap your arms around his waist. 

He didn't hug you back like he usually did, his hands hung limp at his sides. You rubbed your hands up and down his spine, like he always did to you, hoping that would help pull him out of the thoughts plaguing him right now.

"He's gonna be okay. We're okay." You soothed. You could hear his heartbeat where you rested your head against his chest. It sounded normal, but you knew every beat must hurt like hell.

Sam swallowed hard, his arms came up around you and he leaned his head on your shoulder.

"Reminded me of Riley." Even though he was whispering, his voice broke at the end and it felt like your heart shattered.

You kept on rubbing his back soothingly, giving him space to speak whenever he was comfortable. It took a while and your feet started to get cold from the bare tiles underneath, but it didn't matter. All you cared about in that moment was Sam. 

"For a second there, I thought I'd lose him, just like Riley." Sam whispered. You could tell he was coming back to himself, the battle of thoughts and guilt settling down finally. 

“After Steve left… I don’t know…. Me and Bucky became friends and…I don’t know.” He sighed heavily, a warm puff of air against your neck. “After everything we’ve been through…”

“You were scared for him." 

"Yeah.” Sam shook his head, as if that would help his worries go away. “Lost too many people already.” He muttered so quietly, you weren’t sure he was talking to you or more to himself.

He stood up straight and cupped your face in his hands. "Sorry you had to see all that." 

You rolled your eyes at him. "You two need to start worrying about yourself like you worry about me." 

He chuckled, but it was short and breathy. He brought you back in an embrace and placed a kiss on your forehead, lingering there for a moment. 

"I'm glad you're okay, baby." Sam murmured, running his thumbs over your cheekbones. 

"Too bad I didn't get to crisp Zemo up." You huffed as the heavy atmosphere lifted you felt like jokes were appropriate again. 

Sam laughed for the first time that day and it felt like a weight was lifted off your chest.

_ _ _ _

Now, almost two years after you appeared out of nowhere, you were a fully fledged member of their team, taking part in most missions and following them around the country. 

On your way from a stake out, you and Bucky spent half an hour playing rock-paper-scissors in the backseat - the loser had to go to reception to book them a good room and try to negotiate a lower price. You lost the game but Sam knew that was good news. 

Even before your English had improved dramatically thanks to Bucky’s lessons, you were one cheeky demon. Sam was sure you could charm your way through Hell, just to steal Satan’s pitchfork and bring it back home to roast marshmallows.

“Remember, Saphira, we need two rooms, a double and a single.” Bucky rubbed your shoulders as if you were about to step out on a boxing ring.

“Seriously, Bucky? _Eragon_?” You pulled a face. 

Despite your initial hatred of being compared to the mythical creature, you have become somewhat of a dragon connoisseur and were very critical of the dragon-related nicknames Bucky would pick for you. 

“What? She was very wise!” Bucky argued.

“I like Draco from Dragonheart better. Wise but fun - like me!” You grinned back at him and pulled on your jacket, ready to emerge into the cold night and negotiate your way to a nice room at the roadside hotel.

“How about Norbert? Ya know, from Harry Potter.”

“No.”

“But he made these cute squeaky noises!”

“Absolutely not. I _don’t_ make squeaky noises.” Your eyes flashed red in annoyance.

“I beg to differ. Remember when last week--” Bucky didn’t get to finish his sentence before you flashed your red eyes at him again and growled. You didn’t growl often but when you did, it _was_ a bit scary.

“So what about that room?” Sam interrupted your bickering, not interested in more burn marks on the backseat. You stared at him for a moment, surprised at the interruption, but grateful for it too, then nodded and exited the car.

Only fifteen minutes later you strolled down the parking lot like it was your personal catwalk, two keys swinging from your fingers.

“Guess who just got us two _premium_ double rooms right next to the _heated_ pool for two thirds of the price.” You batted your lashes at Sam and he could just kiss you. If there was a stocked mini fridge in the room, he would _definitely_ kiss you. 

The rooms you got them were fantastic, Sam dared say they were the best they’ve had since the beginning of the mission. The beds were comfortable, the bathrooms big and there was indeed a stocked mini fridge. You had disappeared in your room next door and Sam could hear your music faintly playing from the bluetooth speaker he had gotten you for your birthday. 

Long after Sam had dozed off in his bed, he felt Bucky tugging on his blanket and calling his name. He sat up with a startle, worried something had happened, but Bucky lay on the bed quietly.

“Buck? What wrong?” Sam asked as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He had really hoped for a good night’s sleep.

“There’s a dragon in the pool.” Bucky murmured. He was half asleep, pulled out of deep slumber by the sounds of the water splashing outside. 

Sam stood up and walked to the large balcony door. There was indeed a dragon in the pool, _his_ dragon. He glanced at his watch - 3am.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Sam was at the side of the pool in a blink of an eye, hands on his hips.

You drifted over to where he was standing. “Couldn’t.” You sounded sad, Sam knew you were tired.

“What’s bothering you, baby?” Sam spoke in a hushed voice, he didn’t want your conversation to keep Bucky up as well.

“Just... Thinking, I guess.” You shrugged and lowered yourself in the water until your lips were hidden under the surface. 

Sam was well aware what it was like when your brain just would not shut up, he had nights like that too sometimes. But he wouldn’t be himself if he would just leave you to deal with it on your own. So he pulled his shirt off and walked over to the pool ladder.

“What are you doing?” You asked, amusement audible in your voice. 

“I’m getting in the pool, obviously.”

By the time he was in the water, you had swimmed closer. You didn’t even bother hiding the fact that you were ogling his naked chest.

“Like what you see?” He wriggled his brows suggestively, which made you laugh.

The answer was obvious and it has been for a while. Since the moment he opened the door for you, you knew that he was the most attractive man you had ever seen in your life. The sleep-crumpled tshirt and old comfy sweats he wore that night weren’t capable of hiding his broad chest and thick thighs. You were a big fan of those massive biceps he was so proud of. And seeing them now on full display and wet from the pool water... you were sure your eyes were red with lust.

“You know I do, Sammy.”

“Come here then.” Sam opened his arms for you and you wasted no time. 

In a matter of seconds you were wrapped around him like the clingy koala you were - legs around his waist, hands around his neck and forehead against his temple. 

Sam slid one hand to you shoulder blade, the other holding your thigh in a tight grip. He dipped his head down, first leaving a line of kisses from your shoulder to the base of your neck, where he nipped suddenly, making you gasp. He busied himself leaving marks on your skin, pulling delighted sighs and moans from you. When another trail of kisses along your jaw brought him to the sensitive skin under your ear, a shiver ran through you and you dug your nails in his shoulder, making him hiss and pull you impossibly closer to his chest.

Before you met Sam, you haven’t had anyone for a while. In your town, you were known as the fire girl, people were scared of you. Once you were old enough to do so, you would travel around, to places where people haven’t heard of you. But whenever you got close to someone and they found out about your powers, they would be scared of you and refused to even come near you.

Sam wasn’t ever like that though. Even if he freaked out the first night you met, he was perfectly comfortable with you around once he got some sleep. The two of you had gotten close quickly. He was kind and funny and his snarky comments had you crying of laughter. He treated you just like he treated everybody else - maybe even a bit better, since he always let you cuddle up to him and even steal a kiss or two here and there. He made you feel like your powers were something normal, just another part of you. It was a common occurrence for him to slide his cup of coffee over to you so you could heat it up. That always earned you a reward of extra bacon and a sweet kiss.

You liked Sam, too. _A lot_. And you may have had an idea what could help your restless mind to go to sleep.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, a gentle finger pressing between your brows to smooth out the little wrinkle that appeared when you concentrated very hard on something.

“You.”

“Me? I’m right here, baby, you don’t need to think about me.” He chuckled. His thick, strong arms held you tightly to him and honestly there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. 

You cupped his face in your hands, runned your thumbs along his jaw, where stubble started to appear. You closed your eyes, the only sense you wanted to concentrate on was touch as you kissed his soft, warm lips. You could feel the corners of his mouth curl up in a smile when you caught his bottom lip between yours and sucked lightly.

“Hey, Sam?” You pulled away to look at him and Sam could swear you took his breath away.

The barely-there red sheen of your irises and the blue hue of the underwater lights made you look incredible. It was like your wet skin glowed in the dark and lured him in.

“What is it, baby?” He stroked your cheek, voice hoarse.

“Do you - _Why_ are you staring at me like that?” Whatever you wanted to ask him, his goofy smile successfully distracted you from it. Sam’s smile was ridiculously infectious and you could never resist it.

“ **Your eyes shine like** this swimming pool around us **and I am just a stupid fool who can’t stop smiling.** ” Sam said, tone all dreamy. You snorted a laugh.

“Wow. That’s so cheesy, Sammy. That from a movie or something?”

“A song, actually.” Sam faked offence at you not knowing the quote. “What were you going to ask?”

A cocky grin appeared on your lips and Sam already knew what you were after before you even spoke - he’s seen that expression before. The grin, the bedroom eyes, oh he knew _those_ well. 

“Do you wanna go to my room?” You asked, lips brushing light like a feather against his.

He gave you his signature grin. “Only if you wash the stench of this chlorinated water off you.” 

You rolled your eyes and untangled yourself from him. “Might need some help making sure it’s all gone.” You were out of the pool a moment later, already on your way to your room.

You looked back at him, eyes flashing bright red. Tempting him like a freaking anglerfish, except you were prettier and didn’t have a hundred spiky teeth.

“I can _definitely_ help with that.”


End file.
